The Fandom Who Waited
by samlicker113
Summary: Meta, AU. A series of oneshots as Ms. Fandom waits for Sherlock to come back... Rated T for drug references.
1. You Found Me

Author's Note: You know how I said I wasn't posting a new crackfic? Well, fandom, I'm sooooo changeable! Anyways, enjoy. (as always, you can find me at penworthy . tumblr . com) -Macey

"_Baby I will wait for you, cause I don't know what else I can do…"_

The streets of Tumblr are broken tonight as a man makes his way through the crowd. His dark burgundy shirt stretches over his girth and his blonde hair flaps in the wind. Past Potterheads and Omenists and Whovians he presses on, his mind filled with one purpose.

The hospital lies on the far end of Tumblr Street. It's oddly quiet for this time of night, thinks the man, as he pushes through the doors and checks in.

"I'm here to see _her_," he says. The nurse, a younger man wearing a Centurion helmet, only nods his head, as if he knows what he means. "This way then."

And now the Moffat Fear Therapy they walk past, and the ward for the fangirls who need to move on from David Tennant. Then there is the section for Supernaturals fans, who sit in the padding chairs, their ands gripped to a dusty trenchcoat, mumbling about some "angel" or "God" or whatever a Misha Collins is. Anyways, they turn the corner and soon are thrown into the rush and bustle of the drug ward.

The words "Sherlock Fandom" are scribbled onto a piece of paper and taped to the hospital bed. The man bites his lip (she always liked it when he did that) and waves goodbye to the nurse, who appeared to have died on the way there. Twice.

The man approaches the bed and sits beside it, till the patient looks up at him with tearful eyes. "You came back for me," she whispered. "I waited for a year and you _came back._"

"You overdosed on Crack. You shouldn't have done that, I warned you-"

"Well what was I supposed to do?" Fandom threw up her arms and shot him a death glare. "Crack kept me safe. It made me laugh. I wrote fics while on it, horrible fics… about flowers and boxes and kittens and _you should have been there_ to read them."

"I, I-"

"You told me you would be back in Fall. You said you would come back for me. You flew off in that little cab of yours, and I never saw you again." Fandom tugged at the IV in her arm, tears begin to streak down her cheekbones.

Sherlock the Show stared back Sherlock the Fandom, and then he said, "I'm sorry. I love you-"

"Where were you when I needed to here that? I spent hours looking back through our screencaps, our memories…" Fandom flopped down in the bed with a sigh of frustration.

"But crack? Really? You gave yourself to drugs?"

"I needed something to hold onto… because I couldn't hold onto you."

The Show sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. "I can't stress how sorry I am."

"I tried to cope with it by spending time with Doctor Who." said Fandom. "He helped me get off the crack, just a bit. And that friend of yours… what was her name, Alone On The Water? I think it was that. She brought me down to earth, even if for a few minutes. But it wasn't enough. I wanted _you._ And you weren't there for me."

"I'm-"

"Did you know I had to date CBS's clone of you? I don't care what the scientists over at Doctor Who's Wibbly Lab say, it's not the same."

"I'm sorry." said The Show. That was all he could say as Fandom's stress-pulled eyes glared into his. "I never meant for this to happen. I just got caught up in-"

"In what? Are you seeing that Supernatural chick again?"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT HER." said Show. Silence fell across the hospital as soon as he spoke. The only noise was of the Roman nurse as he slipped in his own blood and impaled himself on the nearby chair.

"Then what is it about?" Fandom crossed her arms. "Because I'd like to know."

"About the crack, Fan. About the crack."

"I'm not going to stop." Fandom said. "I don't what they say, the nurses and the doctors and Rory, I'm not going to."

"Is there anything I can do?" The Show said.

"You could have been there. You could have stayed." Fandom whispered. Once again, the sound of the nurse dying filled the room. "You could have not left me waiting by the phone every day, scanning your Facebook for updates on when you'd be back."

"You know I couldn't do that." said Show regrettably. "BBC, my boss, wouldn't let me."

"Then leave."

Show grabbed her hand, which was worn to the bone from the crack. "I said couldn't… I never said can't."

A smile crossed Fandom's face.

"How cute…" whispered the nurse before he collapsed from the convenient poison dart.

When Fandom awoke the next morning, the hospital was empty. Show had left and she was left alone again.

Then she looked on the tableside… sitting there was a DVD with a sticky note attached to it:

"My dearest Fandom, it is with great regret that I write this… I wish we could have had more time. However, I will be back in January. From then, I hope this short trailer will be enough. PS: Cream tea!"

Fandom smiled for the first time in a long time, and held the DVD close to her chest.

"_Where were you, when everything was falling apart. All my days, were spent by the telephone… it never rang, when all I needed was a call. It never came, to the corner of Tumblr avenue…"_

_FIN_


	2. I Need A Doctor, Who

"_You've been gone for so long, I'm running out of time… I need a Doctor, call me a Doctor, I need a Doctor, Doctor, to bring me back to life…"_

This isn't the first time she's found herself crouched against the corner of her room (a room that used to be _their _room, that used to belong to two) and sobbing out her eyes. This isn't the first time her hands are clenched clean through her dirty blonde hair, pulling on the strands with each wrack of her body.

But strangely, this is the first time a time traveling motorcycle has crashed through her wall.

Fandom gets to her feet and watches as Doctor Who leaps off the motorcycle and tosses his helmet to the ground. He's wearing a dark blue jacket and his trademark half-smile (that has become increasingly more smirky ever since he started hanging out with that Moffat fellow, notes Fandom).

"Doctor Who?" she whispers to the show. It isn't her show, of course, but it's still familiar face.

"Oh, sorry!" he yells. "Like Ten would say, so, so sorry. Must've set the Motorcycley-Wotorcycley meter a bit off."

Fandom smiles a bit, Doctor Who's ride reminds her of Morifarty's (haha!) Motorcycle-Coptor. "But you told me you were off on hiatus!"

"I was, for three months. But I'm back!"

Fandom pulls him into a hug. "So," says Doctor Who. "Where's good old Sherlock? Always like him, course not as much as Supernatural, but still…"

Fandom allows herself a bit of a frown at the mention of Supernatural. (Bitch stole her boyfriend once. ) "He's, uh…"

"Oh. Oh. OH." says Doctor Who, each repeat of "oh" sounding a bit more shocked. "I'm so sorry."

"No, no, it's fine." It's not fine, it's never fine, but Doctor Who doesn't need to know that. "He left on a cliffhanger. Literally, he threw himself off a cliff."

"A cliff? Oh, Sherlock… one crazy hell-of-a show." says Doctor Who. "Course, not as crazy as me! I've got Weeping Angels and badass chicks and running and paradoxes and civilizations of pure-" He taps her on the head. "-thought and a whole universe of frightening possibi-"

"I know, Doctor Who. You don't have to do another monologue."

"Ah, but I like monologues! Or at least RTD did, when I said them." Doctor Who looks sullen for a minute, but then perks up. "Oi, how did my fabulous Sherlock clone work out for you then? I think his name was CBS…"

"Uh, not very well." says Fandom, thinking back to those times. (But that's a story for another chapter). "But he was nice-"

"Good at partying, I know. And a tad obsessed with guns."

Fandom rolls her eyes. "And explosions."

"Well, he is American…" says Doctor Who. "Anyways, what are you going to do now?"

Fandom sits down on the bed. "I don't know. I tried the crack, but-"

Doctor Who glares at her. "Fanny, we talked about this…"

"I know, I know, but it's just so awesome!" Fandom giggles a bit. "And funny."

"You shouldn't need crack when you've got me, and my wonderful universe of impossible… oh right, with the monologues." He sighs and sits down next to her.

Fandom says, "I have no idea what I will do now. Perhaps… sit and wait."

"You're the girl who waited," said Doctor Who. "You and Amy Pond would get along great. Or Rory! Boy who waited, great guy. Shame he dies so much…" He looks wistful and sad for a moment, before an idea lights up his face.

"As Nine once said, I've got a fantastic idea!" He brings to his feet and does a little twirl. Fandom simply rolls her eyes, but Doctor Who grabs her by both hands and whirls her around. "A fabulous one! Or, as Eleven would say, a cool one!"

"What?"

"Why, my dear Fandom, I am taking you to… Tumblrland!"

Fandom's face breaks out into a grin. "Oh, Tumblrland? The fine café's… the art galleries, the kittens, the Qwertee shirts… oh, Doctor Who, it'll be wonderful!"

"It'll be more than wonderful," says Doctor Who. "It'll be amazing."

For a little while, Fandom allows herself to forget about Sherlock and she boards the motorcycle and flies away with Doctor Who. In fact, the humming of the engine doesn't remind her of Morifarty's (haha!) motorcycle-coptor. Not one bit.


	3. A Study In CHEESEBURGERS HOT CHICKS GUNS

**Author's Note: Just a harmless little parody, guys. I'm American myself, I mean no disrespect. (Btw, if you're wondering about the ending, just read Flowers In a Box. It'll all click.)**

"_So, CBS, I herd u liek Sherlock…?"_

Sherlock strolls into the lab. "MOLLY!" he says.

Out steps a scantily clad I-can't-believe-it's-not-a-stripper. "Hi Sherlock," she says.

"Who's body is this?" says Sherlock.

"He worked here. I knew him, he was hot! But not as hot as you." says Molly. (Silly Molly, says the slash fans, Sherlock is gay!) A laugh track plays in the background.

Sherlock deduces some shit and then cool special effects play. Then it cuts to this guy in a bed.

The sound of guns fill the air as John Watson, badass army doctor, springs out of bed.

"Good morning USA, I gotta feelin that it's gonna be a wonderful day!" sings John as he makes his cereal.

Then the theme song starts to play.

"_His name is Sherloooock, and he solves crimes."_

"_His name is Jooooohn, and he's an ordinary guy."_

"_But togeeeether, there's nothing they can't do."_

"_Not bombs nor Moriarty nor guns can ever stop these two!"_

We cut to a therapist's office. John lies on a comfy couch and a guy with a beard and glasses is talking.

"It's going to take you awhile to adjust to civilian life, and writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help." 

"But if I'm always blogging then what will I have to blog about instead of blogging?" says John. The laugh track plays again. (Several Tumblr users gif this for a time when it may be needed).

"Figure out yourself, beotch." says the therapist. "I'm just a dude with beards and glasses."

John shrugs his shoulders at the camera.

We then cut to John meeting Sherlock and ya da ya da ya da. Who cares about developing friendships and stuff because THERE IS A MYSTERY DUN DUN DUUUN.

Sherlock and John rush to the scene. Some dude was murdered by poisoned but expensive Chinese food.

Sherlock slips on his glasses. "Guess next time this guy should just… order McDonalds."

"I'm Loving It" plays in the background as a small product placement montage shows of John eating Mcnuggets filled with jam.

"Solvin crimes can be hard," he says. "DAMN MY LEG. So, when I need energy, I just get a nice batch of McJammins- only available at Mcdonalds."

We cut back to the show. Some explosions happen and Sherlock and John have a car chase with the murderer. They end up handcuffed together, don't ask why it happened it just did who needs plot when you have America.

Then they meet this hot chick but it isn't Molly it's another hot chick. She wears a skintight jumpsuit and her name is Irene Alder. She has long brown hair that cascades down her shoulder, just barely stopping above her huge breasts.

Then a building explodes and Sherlock punches some guys. And jumps out of buildings and bangs some hot chick LIKE A BOSS. AND TURNS into A JET AND BOMBS THE RUSSIANS.

"No homo, man, but you rock," says John.

"It's cool," says Sherlock. "Brostyries before mysteries."

And if not for those meddling kids, then-

"STOP." says CBS Director. "I'm sorry Duncan, but this script sucks. There's no way we can film this."

"But I capture everything right about America!" says Duncan. "Guns, hot chicks, bromance, America, explosions, cheeseburgers…"

"That's not what America is about! America is about unsubtly and unrealistically hot actors, not that stuff! Now out of my office,"

All of a sudden a person strolls through the door and hands the CBS director a script: it reads, "FLOWERS IN A BOX, THE TV VERSION."

The CBS Director takes one look through it and jumps out of his chair. "YES! YES! Now zis is what America is about!"

…Coming to a theatre near you.


	4. Im Not Sherlock But I Keep Trying

**Author's Note: Do you guys have any suggestions for future chapters? There are only so many CBS jokes a girl can make... D:**

_"Baby can I hate on you? Cause I don't know what else I can do..."_

"Go away." insists Fandom, brushing back her hair.

CBS approaches her and lays a hand on her shoulder. He flicks off his sunglasses and they land in the sand of the beach. "I'm not that different from him, you know."

"You're nothing like Sherlock, and you never will be." Fandom scooted away from her lover's clone. "So stop trying to be."

"Is there anything I can do?" asks CBS. The only noise now is the sound of lapping waves in the distance, and somewhere, Rory being eaten by a mermaid. (Sweet Sherlock warned him about the mermaids once, but Hella Rory thought he was just being paranoid).

Fandom didn't answer and begins to trace circles in the sand. "You know, if Doctor Who was here, he'd say that this scene reminds him of Bad Wolf. Except Rose wasn't left alone on a beach with her clone. Her true love was there too."

"I said, is there anything I can do?"

Fandom sighed. "Yes. Let me hate on you."

CBS recoils. "What?" Fandom barely even knew him. He didn't have a chance to prove himself. How could she have so much hate for him?

"I said, let me hate on you. Get out some anger."

CBS was torn up inside. On one hand, he could finally win Fandom's trust and heart. On the other hand, it might not make things any better. And on the third hand, well... at least she'd be talking to him. (Yes he has three hypothetical hands. I don't make the rules, I just break em).

So he nodded, and Fandom unleashed her fury.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST STROLL IN AND THINK YOU'RE SOOO COOL WELL YOU'RE NOT THE CHILD OF MOFFAT AND GODTISS, CRAFTED FROM BENEDICT'S EYES AND MARTIN'S TEARDUCTS, FROM ANDREW SCOTT'S HAIR AND FROM MYCROFT'S UMBRELLA, NOO. AND YOU'RE AMERICAN WTF YOU GUYS HAVE NO GOOD SHOWS AND YOU ALREADY HAVE HOUSE AAAAND PSYCH WHY DO YOU NEED ANOTHER ONE SO YOU STRUT AROUND TOWN LIKE YOU'RE THE NEXT BIG SHOW..."

And CBS sat there in the sand and listened, to every word. Fandom's face grew redder and her hair flapped around wildly in the breeze. And when she finally stopped yelling, silence fell across the beach.

"Right," said CBS. Forget all the hands, this chick was nuts. And so he left.

Fandom sat down on the ground and pulled out her crack. Maybe she could write a cracky fanfic about this one day.


	5. Whovians, It's Gonna Be Okay

**Author's Note: Just to clear something up: The Sherlock Fandom is referred to as "Fandom" in this fic because it's more or less told from her point of view and about her. If this fic was about the Doctor Who fandom, then Whovian would be referred to as "Fandom" instead. Hope this clears it up.**

"_If I should Tumble, if I should fall, would anyone hear me at all? Behind these castle walls… there's no one here at all…"_

Gleek and Fandom were having a nice dinner out. The two gals hadn't always gotten along, as Gleek had been complaining about the hiatus and Fandom had taken her anger out on her… "LOL DIS BITCH THINKS SHE HAS TO WAIT". Still, even though they had gotten off on the wrong foot, the two girls were still having fun and were considering writing a crossover fic.

Gleek had big blue eyes and chestnut skin. Her hands were covered in doodles, and her mind covered in AU! ideas. She wore star earrings and a Warbler tie (and if you want to know a secret, she has a Faberry tattoo on her hip. Don't tell her I said that.)

"And then, so I was like, if you don't like my manip? Fine. I'm gonna make fifty more." said Gleek as they clanked wine glasses.

"Haha, I always liked your manips." said Fandom. The bottle of crack was still in her pocket, but she hadn't succumbed to it yet. "Very creative. What's your secret?" 

"Well, see, I…" said Gleek, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

All of a sudden the doors of the restaurant opened, and in rushed Whovian. Her TARDIS blue mascara was running down her face, and her "Save Rory" tee-shirt was soaked through with tears.

"Oh my god," said Gleek, rushing to pull Whovian into a hug. "Is it about the God Complex? I'm so sorry, I know how much those Ponds meant to you…"

Whovian shook her head, a sob escaping her mouth. "No, no, it's worse…"

"Rory died again? River Song is really the Rani? There's a convoluted plot twist? People are still complaining that Melody hasn't been mentioned? Matt Smith stopped like badgers?" listed Gleek.

"NO!" said Whovian, tearing away from her grasp. "I have to WAIT!"

"Wait?" said Fandom, thrusting herself out of the chair. "Did you say wait?"

Whovian nodded.

"Pfft girl, you call waiting 3 months 'waiting'? I had to wait-"

"No! Look!" Whovian tears a tear-stroked article out of her pocket. Fandom holds it up to her eyes and reads it. She slowly lowers the paper down, mouth agape.

"Oh, no… I am so, so sorry."

"Just like Ten used to say… before he regenerated…" sniffed Whovian. "And now, in three weeks, Doctor Who is leaving and he won't come back for a long… long, time."

Fandom's heart broke for her friend. Since she had been a child, her and Whovian had played together. Even under Moffat's cruel tyrant and Gatiss's trolling, they had survived. They were one and the same, sisters in fandom. But never before had they been so parallel to each other.

_No one was here for me when I waited, _thought Fandom. _I'm not going to let that happen to Whovian._

She pulled Whovian into a hug, letting her cry out her pain out on her fabulous Westwood T-Shirt. When the tears were done, Whovian pulled away and looked at Fandom.

Fandom leaned over and kissed Whovian on the forehead. "Just like Eleven does," she said with a smile. "And will continue doing, even if you have to wait for it."

Whovian's smile cracked a bit, but the twinkle in her eyes was genuine. "Thank you, Sherlockian." she whispered.

"You'll never have to wait alone." _I'm here for you, buddy. _The words were not spoken aloud, but the hung in the air between the two fandoms.

And it wasn't until Whovian got home that she noticed Fandom had slipped something into her back pocket… a syringe full of crack.

"Can't be too bad…" she said aloud to herself as she prepared to shoot it into her arm. And as her hand pressed down onto the syringe, suddenly everything was Rory in jumpers and nothing hurt.

For now.

"_You'll never have to be alone, for this moment on…"_


	6. Have It Worse

**Author's Note: First of all, thanks so much for the reviews! I had no idea this would get so much love. Thank you, fabulous Tumblr users 3 Also, as a note of reference: Addict is the Arrested Development fandom, and "Natty" is the SPN fandom. (I couldn't find a name so I made up one).**

"_Soon you're gonna find stealing other people's toys on the playground won't make you many friends… she should keep in mind, she should keep in mind, there is nothing I do better than revenge (revenge!)…"_

Fandom stood outside in the cold. In sharp contrast to icy air around her, the party inside Gleek's house was roaring with the fire of excited fandoms. From inside came the slosh and rock of drinks being passed around, and the chiming words of Freddie Mercury as "Don't Stop Believing" played out over the crowd.

Gleek, the princess of the night, wore a beautiful dress decorated with stars. She was chatting with Natty, a shy fandom with a bad temper, who wore glasses and a jumper that said "Save Castiel" (as well as a sock monkey hat, a birthday gift from Minion when he was in town last summer).

"I'm so happy Glee is coming back tonight!" said Gleek. "I waited so long!"

_Bullshit. _Fandom thinks.

Natty takes a sip of her drink, but her eyes are still full of anxiety. "I'm happy Supernatural is coming back, but I'm worried that she might kill off Castiel."

"Why would Supernatural do that? Everyone loves Castiel!" said Gleek.

"Well… I wasn't going to tell anyone, but lately Supernatural's been hanging out with the wrong crowd." Natty leaned in closer and adjusted her glasses. "Her name is Sera Gamble and I'm… I'm w-worried that she'll get Supernatural to do something stupid, like kill off a popular character. But Death is coming back, though, so that's nice."

Gleek ignored her. "You know, I'm so happy that I survived the hiatus. It was so long, you know? I thought I was going to die."

At this point Fandom crunched the coke can in her hand and let it clutter to the floor. How dare Gleek say that she waited! Fandom had waited the longest out of everyone, and she still didn't have her Show back yet.

"Tired of waiting, eh?" Fandom looked up. Standing beside her was a man wearing a sweater vest and sipping from a soda can with an impossible allure.

"Uh, yeah. Are you a fandom?"

"Yep." The man extended his (blue dyed) hand and shook Fandom's gingerly. "My name is Addict."

"What are you a fan of? Weeds?"

Addict laughed. "I wish. No, it's Arrested Development."

"Why are you here?" said Fandom.

"Because I'm tired of waiting, too. Here, take a walk with me."

Fandom agrees, and the two walk off into the street. Before they know it, they're at a large building called "Waiting Room".

"I've never been here before…" says Fandom as Addict leads her into it. Bright lights twinkle everywhere. There's a ping pong table in the corner and a group of unfamiliar fandoms who stare back at her.

There's a group of placards on the wall, and Fandom takes some time to inspect them.

"Why is Whovian up here?" she says, turning to Addict. "She never waited."

"Yeah she did. When the Classic Who got canceled, Whovian had to wait almost a decade before the New Who came out."

"Wow… that's longer than I have…" Fandom said, suddenly feeling a bit sad.

"Look, I waited too. I'm still waiting on that Arrested Development movie." said Addict. "I know how it feels."

"So did I." said the Roman nurse, stepping forward. "2,000 years with nothing but a box. And it wasn't even blue!"

More fandoms started to come forward… and with each one, Fandom became a bit more humbled.

"You don't think it annoys us when young ones like Gleek brag about having 'survived the hiatus'?" said Addict. "But we don't attack her for it."

Fandom hung her head. "I guess I've been a bit foolish, to assume I've waited the longest. I could have it a lot worse."

"Let Gleek have her special night," said Addict. "You'll have your day soon. And anyways, we can have our own one here while we wait."

"Every night's a party in the waiting room!" said Star Trek.

Fandom smiled a bit. And she didn't stop smiling the whole time, not even when while playing darts she accidently impaled Rory.


	7. Jam On My Trousers, Blood On My Hands

_"Well Jesus Christ, I'm alone again, so what did you do those three days you were dead?"_

Of course it was the day that Series Six ended that Fandom threw her party. And the day after Castiel died for reals, Chuck forbid. Not a good day for a party. (Well, it depends who you're talking to. If you asked Brony, he'd say that it's always a good day for a party).

Whovian and Natty sat at the table, studying their napkins with sorrowful gazes. Natty traced tiny circles in her oversized trenchcoat (/overcoat/raincoat/let's be honest, poncho/because if Cas was going to die, he was going to do it looking like a folk band).

"Wake up kiddies, I've got music!" Fandom said playfully as she pulled up a chair beside her friends. "Moves Like A Jagger" resounded in the background.

"Nothing," said Whovian. "Will ever be the same again. I'll have to wait forever for Doctor Who to come back! At least he pops in at Christmas, but it's... not enough."

Fandom gave her an affectionate shake on the shoulder. "I know how you feel," she said with a laugh. "Hedgehogs will never be the same again. Or skulls, or riding crops, or flowers, or kittens."

Whovian responded with a glare. "I'm sorry Sherlockian, but I'm just not in the mood for a party."

Fandom instead turned to Natty.

"The bastards did it," whispered Natty. "They finally did it."

Fandom cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Maybe she should have just invited Brony instead. (When having him over, she had to remember not to serve cupcakes).

Then an idea lit across her face. She jumped out of her seat and crossed into the kitchen, throwing open the cabinet and getting to work. When she came back and set her masterpiece on the table, her friends stared back at her.

"Jam?" said Whovian, tapping the glass a bit. "Really?"

"Here, try a bit." Fandom offered her the spoon with a grin. "It's good for you."

Whovian sighed, adjusted her tie a bit, and took a bit. Within seconds the melancholy look had been banned from her face, replaced with dilated, kitten like eyes and a smile. "You know," she said. "I bet when no one is waiting, The Silence reanact Mean Girls scenes. HEY STEVE, WHAT IS THAT SUIT MADE OF? YOUR MOM'S CHEST HAIR."

Natty glared at Fandom. "You put crack in it? Seriously?"

Fandom shrugged. "Worked for me during the hiatus, why shouldn't it work for her?"

"MATT SMITH'S EYEBROWS ARE CATERPILLARS THAT TURNED INTO BUTTERFLIES AND FLEW AWAY." said Whovian.

Natty rolled her eyes, but nonetheless did not leave.

Meanwhile...

Doctor Who held the spoilers in his hands as he walked into the room. The pool reflected off the ceiling, casting an eerie shine over the walls.

"So," he said, holding them up. "All of those plot twists, Rory's deaths, all to distract me from this..."

Suddenly there was a shuffle behind him. He turned around to see a familiar face standing there in a fluffy coat.

"Well this is a turn up, isn't it, Doctor Who?"

"Confidential?" said Doctor Who, turning around.

"Bet you never saw this coming."

"Confidential, what the hell?"

Confidential spread his coat to reveal a bomb underneath. "What, would you like me... to make him say... next?"

Doctor Who began to advance towards him.

"Gottle o gear, gottle o gear..."

"Shut up." said Doctor Who.

"Nice touch, the pool, where little Rory Williams died... I stopped him, I can stop Confidential too. Stop his heart."

"Who are you?"

All of a sudden the clanging of a door filled the pool. Out stepped BBC3, the more sinister of BBC's children, in a charming suit and tie. He crossed the room like a spider across it's web, inching closer and closer to his prey, which hung in the balance. At any moment he could cut the string and send them tumbling below, but not now... soon, though, perhaps. Light and shadow danced a sad duet on across his face as the pool rippled in sudden call.

"I gave you my channel," he said. "Thought you might watch." Smiling a devil's smile, he said, "Is that a coffin for Rory in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?"

"Both." said Doctor Who, drawing the gun from his pocket.

"3? 3 from BBC?" said BBC3. "Oh, did I really make such a fleeting impression? Although I suppose, that was rather the point..."

Doctor Who said nothing, his hands gripped against the gun.

No more must be said here. All I can say is the spider cut the web, but only one bug went tumbling down below. And as Doctor Who stood in the clutches of the explosion, holding the crimson soaked body of Confidential in his arms, he was not the only one crying.

"I'm sorry," whispered BBC3. "Daddy's orders."

_"Cause this problem's gonna last, more than the weekend..."_


	8. Bring In The New Year

She'd made it, she thought, as she stood on the edge of the gaping whiteness and breathed a sigh.

Her hands were shaking and weak, covered in scratches- a misogyny wank there, an elitist wank here, and so and so forth. But in a way it was these battlescars that had made it all worthwhile. Because beneath all of it- not just the wank or the memes or the bloody jam or the reblogs or the comics or the crack, or the hate or the crossovers or the fanfics, or the trolls or the elitists or the hipsters, or the song parodies or the douchebags to the angels high up above- beneath all of this, she was just a girl who loved a show, and wanted to see more of it as soon as possible.

And that was enough. She didn't need to be the best fandom that ever existed to still be valid, she knew her love for Sherlock was a real one and that was enough. Her jokes didn't have to be the funniest, her drawings didn't have to be the best, her fanfics the most eloquent. No fandom truly needs that. All they needed was a genuine like of the show, and that's something that no one can compete on because anyone who's ever been in fandom has it.

And she had made it. It had been a rocky journey, not the fire and brimstone she'd expected, but also not the fluffy clouds and ice cream fantasy she'd kept tucked away in the idealistic corner of her mind.

But it all felt worth it now as she looked down and saw the DVD boxset in her hands. A note was attached to it, and Fandom grabbed it and opened it eagerly.

It simply read, in a familar font...

_"Good shows come to those who wait."_

And as she sat down to watch "A Scandal In Bohemia' she knew that it was true.

THE END

Author's Note: This was a fun ride, all! Happy Sherlock day! :3

-Penwo


End file.
